Anna M. Aquino

I like to say that I’m a reformed klutz. I haven’t broken a bone in years, and while I wore that label in my youth I would say few who know me since then realize my past. But maybe it’s time I join a support group. We’ll call it Klutz Anonymous, because I had a relapse last week. “Hi, my name is Anna Aquino and I can be a klutz. It’s now been 5 days since my last instance…” Last week I was riding my bike. I was in my own little world. I was enjoying the sun and the crisp fall weather that is finally making its appearance in Central Florida. My mind was far from what I was doing, when all of a sudden I looked in front of me. I saw it coming. It was a branch from a tree that hung out over the sidewalk. I went to duck but there wasn’t enough time. *Smack* my glasses fell off my face. I heard them with a ping hit the sidewalk. It was as if I was caught in slow motion. I went to stop my bike but then the sound that echoed in the morning breeze reverberated in the stillness o

If you follow my blogs you know I have done a “Prophetic Conditions” series off and on as I have gotten them. We have covered conditions: Prophetic Anorexia, Prophetic Dyslexia, and Prophetic Amnesia. Yesterday I was pondering on all of this again and got another one. It is prophetic constipation. We are so blessed to live in such an age where we have the ability to hear from God on a regular basis. There are prophetic words flying in churches, prophets are delivering them, and you can hear them in your own prayer time. All a prophetic word is is hearing the voice of God whether it is for your life or someone else’s. (John 10:27) The standard is that people try to record them if received in a service on a tape, CD, or even an mp3 sometimes. However, what I have found all too often is many Christians who are used to this have a collection of prophetic words that their doing nothing with. Do not get me wrong God’s word is not limited, but you have to do something with the words

Last week my daughters were playing with the Nativity Set when I heard a shriek from my youngest, “Mom! I lost baby Jesus!” Knowing my girls and understanding they have a flair for the dramatics without looking up from the book I was reading, I responded, “You can’t loose baby Jesus. He’s there whether you see him or not!” So the search continued. The cries and screams of frustration came from my youngest like an emergency siren. She began looking on the branches of the tree, around the bottom on the skirt, and anywhere she could think of looking for the tiny figurine. She was practically in tears. Perhaps had I been more observant I would have heard my oldest daughter smirking at this point. But since the oldest was appearing to look too I didn’t notice her suppressing giggles. It took about ten minutes before the oldest broke her silence and when she did, she told me through her laughter that she’d been the one that had hid the baby Jesus. The youngest didn’t appreciate the joke, but